A Triumph Over Good Taste
by Le Penguin
Summary: Reading trashy dime-store bodice-rippers in bed leads to spooning which leads to forking.


"Psst. Mikleo."

Mikleo craned his head over his shoulder. They'd been spooning together in bed for the past few hours, Sorey's head on his shoulder, both reading the book clutched in Mikleo's hands. The girls were out having "Ladies' Night" in town, and Zaveid, banned on pain of death from coming within two hundred feet of Ladies' Night, was probably out spying on couples making out in the park.

This afforded Mikleo and Sorey a rare night of privacy in the inn, which they'd spent eating the batch of madelines Mikleo had prepared for the occasion and powering through the inn's bookshelves. Mikleo had felt Sorey's hard cock poking him in the back of his thigh for the past half hour or so - he probably got riled up from that romance novel Mikleo had snatched from the shelf to laugh at. Mikleo couldn't fathom how someone could actually get turned on by reading the sentence "heaving, sweaty mounds of flesh", and also couldn't imagine how someone thought "Torvald" was a good name for a romantic lead. But, regardless, Sorey grinding his hips against his backside had helped along the atmosphere. A little. Only a little. Seriously, "Torvald"?

Sorey grinned at him and waggled his eyebrows. The side of Mikleo's mouth curled upward despite himself.

"Mikleooooo," Sorey breathed into his ear, looping his arms more firmly around his waist and pulling his back snug against his big warm chest. The thin fabric of his sleeping pants left so little to the imagination, especially when Sorey began to grind his dick more deliberately against Mikleo's ass.

"Are those the leftover madelines in your pants, or did you honestly get hot from reading that trashy dime-store novel?" Mikleo asked, lightly. He plucked one of Sorey's hands from where it was sneaking up his nightshirt, and brought it up to his mouth to lightly kiss at his wrist.

Sorey groaned at the feeling of Mikleo's lips, and his hips stuttered in their rhythm when Mikleo took two fingers into his mouth to suck.

"I think I know why they call them bodice-rippers." Sorey's voice cracked on the last word as Mikleo's tongue swirled between his fingers. "When I see you in that bodice of yours, I kinda want to rip it off too."

Mikleo made a warning noise, and popped Sorey's fingers from his mouth. He cast a glare at Sorey. "Don't you dare. It took me ages to make that. Do you have any idea how many times I had to draft that pattern from the meager selection of tailoring books we had in Elysi-ahhh..."

Sorey's other hand had sneaked its way into Mikleo's pants during his scolding and wrapped around his cock, thumb rubbing at the sensitive tip. Sorey pressed his fingers against Mikleo's lips again, and Mikleo gave them a petulant little nip before allowing them back inside to suck. Sorey's grip was familiar and confident, squeezing and rubbing in time with each thrust of his hips; Sorey's hot, hard cock slotting just perfectly against his ass. Sorey moaned loud in his ear as Mikleo's cock began to leak pre-cum onto his fingers, and he lowered his head to set his teeth to Mikleo's neck. Mikleo felt his fingers slip further past his lips, brushing the back of his tongue - god, he would _really_ bedown with Sorey just pinning him down to the bed right now and making him take his cock instead, hot and leaking down his throat while Sorey fucked his mouth, desperate and begging for Mikleo to swirl his tongue a little more, right there, just like that-

Mikleo made an embarrassingly disappointed whine when Sorey pulled his fingers from Mikleo's mouth mid-fantasy, but the way Sorey was gripping hard at his hipbone, holding him hard in place while he frantically pounded his hips against his ass, the way Sorey's hand twisted around Mikleo's cock so perfectly - well, that was pretty amazing as well. Sorey bit his neck hard as he came, pressed so tightly against him that Mikleo could feel every one of his muscles tense and tremble, and Mikleo was sent tumbling over the edge as well.

The bliss of afterglow was shorter than usual, since Mikleo couldn't quite bring himself to relax with soaked sleeping trousers. Sorey eagerly suggested they simply go without pants for just a few more minutes, c'mon, Mikleo, stay here just a little while longer, we're still alone, let's enjoy it. For once, Mikleo didn't feel like arguing.


End file.
